


Still Water

by lilysmiles



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, 人渣反派自救系统 - 墨香铜臭 | The Scum Villain's Self-Saving System - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Dark Shěn Yuán, Gen, M/M, Reincarnation, Schizophrenia, Self-Insert, Temporary Character Death, Torture, Transmigration
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-18 00:01:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28608729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilysmiles/pseuds/lilysmiles
Summary: Original Luo Binghe was traumatized for life when he saw what he wasn’t meant to see in the mirror world of a kind Shizun and a doting pup in place of himself.But what if there was a third world? Where things were VERY different? What if instead of a sappy love story between an underdeveloped, mentally handicapped half-demon and a pathetic modern man of no real skills, achievements or aspirations that could only criticize ‘original goods’ without any real insight besides that of a trashy web-novel, Shen Yuan was something else? And the original ‘Shizun’ had no intention of going anywhere either.Would the Protagonist Halo be enough to save the ‘hero’ from two enraged Shizuns?
Comments: 22
Kudos: 71





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, new year, new work. A bit morbid to be honest, but considering all the shit that has been going on, hopefully it will allow for venting feelings. 
> 
> For all those people out there that have lost loved ones in the shit storm of COVID. Hopefully another story set in a make-believe world would cheer us up. At least a little.
> 
> Also a protest to all those that consider the relationship between Shen Yuan and Luo Binghe 'cute'. Because there is nothing 'cute' in seducing a mentally impaired child with psychotic tendencies out of self-preservation. That relationship was based on anything but love. And honestly, Shen Qingqiu deserves some respect and admiration for crawling up to such a high position from literally the dirt. And considering how physical punishments were completely normal in ancient China as well as Luo Binghe being taken in by the peak of SCHOLARS (Read: Aristocrats), it was no wonder that he wasn't accepted. In my honest opinion, nothing Shen Qingqui did warranted what happened to him in the end.

Chapter 1 

It was sunny that day. It was as if the entire world decided to wear a bright smile and proclaim it a wonderful day. And that was what it was. Children were laughing and running down the streets playing their little-kid games that must remain a well-kept secret from the adults. After all, the adults wouldn’t understand. Because they were _adults_.

It wasn’t just the children that loved the day. Families and couples holding hands were walking down the footpaths or sitting on their picnic blankets in the nearby parks. It was a good day.

But not for everyone.

Because there were people in the world that would never be cheered up by some good weather. The two men and a teenage girl that walked into the white-rimmed glass doors of the formidable white building down the street were part of that group. After all, no visit to a hospital was meant to be a joyous occasion. And _yes_ , a birth of a new life into the world was meant to be so. But not always. After all, it only took one mistake or some little thing going wrong to turn a wondrous event into a nightmare.

But the family of three was not there for a birth.

No.

Because their tight-knit family unit had one more member.

But few even knew of him anymore. No one except the three and their closest friends even considered him when thinking of the Shen family anymore. And to most associates, even if they knew of the dirty family secret that was the existence of Shen Yuan, it was not as if he was of any importance or significance. Not for much longer anyway.

But his two elder brothers would never think so.

And while their sister would soon grow and forget, as she was of the age where one chooses to turn a blind eye to another’s suffering in favor of their image and popularity among their friends. Especially when raised among the social circles of the Shen family’s standing. But for Shen Yuan’s elder brothers, he would never become a distant memory.

He _couldn’t_ become a memory. They would never allow the essence of their little darling to fade into obscurity. No matter how frail or transparent his body becomes.

They might despise each other. They may be at each other’s throats whenever their darling brother isn’t around to see them. But for all that they loathed the ground the other stood on, they had to tolerate each other’s existence and persevere. After all, the clauses of their father’s Will made it impossible to do otherwise. And it wasn’t just that the shares and ownership of the Shen Pharmaceutical corporation were evenly split between the two, no. They couldn’t even do anything about it.

Because no co-ownership means no access to their trust fund.

Their father remained a genius even from beyond the grave.

But it was something they had expected. Nothing surprising there. They may have hated his decision. It didn’t make it less reasonable. They would have done the same thing in his place after all.

There was a very good reason why family friends made jokes about the respectable businessman and scientist cloning himself in the image of his two elder sons. _That_ was a good joke. Considering how alike the three of them were. With their hardheadedness, fiery tempers and possessiveness, it was little wonder that they had difficulty sharing the same residence.

Oh, they still loved each other. That was a fact. But it didn’t stop the simmering resentment bubbling under the surface when looking upon a superior or inferior ‘copy’ of yourself, depending on the situation. But that didn’t matter. Not when their mother was alive.

Their parent’s marriage was a miracle. It was. Especially considering the circumstances. When the Elder Shen met Kimiko, an exchange student from Japan, it was nothing less than love at first sight. Where their father was a menacing figure of icy fury most of the time, with his love he turned into a docile kitten. Like all of them Shens, really.

And most importantly, Kimiko loved him back.

Nothing stopped their love. Not their 15 year age difference or their disapproving relatives. Neither of them cared. And where their Chinese side of the family openly despised Kimiko for being an ‘opportunistic gold-digger when compared to our lovely Chinese girls, _by the way, have I introduced you to my niece_?...’

Kimiko’s Japanese relatives were a _very_ different, but somewhat similar story. Yes, her family was nowhere near the prestige or wealth of the Shens. But they were nobility of a sorts. An old samurai family. And proud of it. Who cared that out of all their heritage there remained a single ancestral katana and some embroidered kimonos that were on the verge of falling apart from age? Who cared?...

Unfortunately, her family certainly _did_.

And as they had aptly put it, ‘We know you not. For a whore that had spread her legs for one little better than a gaijin is no daughter of ours. You have shamed your ancestors. Shamed your family. Dirtied your blood. Those whelps of yours are not our kin. And neither are you. We know you not.’

But the joke was on them.

For they didn’t do their research when they disowned her. So her father had ‘generously’ _reconsidered_.

She didn’t.

Because if the only difference and her worth to her family was measured in her husband’s wealth, she would rather only be known as a Shen. And her husband was all the happier to support her decision.

***

And so the Shen family grew. And prospered. With two elder sons being mirror images of their own father and the only daughter being a mix of both parents. But it was the third eldest child and the youngest son that was born and grew to be alike their beloved Kimiko. And the entire family loved him for it. With his onyx hair and moonlit skin Shen Yuan could have been the image of a beautiful Princess of ancient times. The only ‘flaw’ he had were his eyes. Oh, few knew about it. After all, one needed to know exactly _what_ they were looking for and look _very_ closely. And not many did.

But his eyes?

For all that they were as dark as proper for any Asian child, they, unlike what was the norm, were in fact _not_ brown. Instead, they were a dark indigo, almost black. Terrifying. Soulless eyes. Desolate eyes. Old eyes.

But no one noticed.

Not friends.

Not even his loved ones.

His family.

He didn’t _want_ them to.

Instead, they only saw the sweet smiles and heard the soft comforting words that poured honey in their ears placating _any_ and _all_ concerns.

But they didn’t need to know some things. The Shen family was all the happier for it. With Kimiko, their beautiful flower fluttering about the house wearing her traditional kimonos which were the one and only thing that remained of her strict traditional Japanese upbringing and her favorite fans in yellow and violet silk depending on her mood. With the Elder Shen always being there for their family unlike most businessmen most of whom eventually strayed towards women or booze.

Their family was picture-perfect.

Until it wasn’t.

It began with their delicate flower. Their personal sun. Kimiko. One day she just went to sleep to never wake up again.

They were devastated.

It was one thing to know that their mother and wife had a fragile disposition. But they weren’t even given a warning. No chance to say goodbye.

Something strained in the Shen family that day. And broke. Permanently. But they pretended that everything was alright. Even when their father followed his wife not even a year later.

They were picture-perfect, you see… _not_ …

So Shen Yuan picked up a role.

Picked up the pieces.

And _played_.

Played like he hadn’t needed to in this life.

Played like he had _before_. Where his life and successes depended on the quality and believability of his act. And played _well_. Because _once_ , the world was his stage with enemies for his audience.

Play _convincingly_ , child…

Play _well_ …

I _might_ even believe you…

And if you don’t?

If _I_ don’t?

Well…

That’s an entirely different story altogether.

In the life he could remember, he had failed. In his arrogance and pride he forgot that the vital part of a successful performance is to not alert the jury and audience to the fact that they were being played. After all, it’s easier to spot that impostor in the crowd of sheep when one is actively looking for foul-play…

But then again, maybe his failure was initially part of the performance? Who knows? Other than him? After all, he is the only one alive to judge.

Now though?

His performance was nothing as challenging. His only task was to amplify the likeness to his mother. The tragically deceased Kimiko. And perhaps there was a time when anyone who would have suggested using his talents as a way of muggle family counselling would have received a timely Avada to the face, after all these years he could admit that he _has_ changed. But not as much as one would think.

What he didn’t expect was for the _extent_ of the likeness between himself and his mother. He definitely didn’t plan to inherit illness and frailty, that was for certain. But unlike with his mother, there was truly nothing that could be done. Nothing.

After all, muggle means couldn’t heal magicals.

_At all._

He wasn’t even diagnosed.

With _anything_.

He was _just_ dying.

At the tender age of twenty two.

He just was.

For no reason _whatsoever_ …


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

At first he hated his new life. But considering what lows his previous one had reached, it was tolerable. _Acceptable_. And then he actually grew to enjoy it.

 _Yes_ , like any self-respecting wizard of a proper birth and upbringing, he despised muggles. They were the dirt beneath his feet. But unlike most of those in the Wizarding community his point of view wasn’t based on arrogance. Or ignorance. Or even fear. _(He even knew what a toaster was)…_

Because unlike most wizards, he knew _exactly_ what muggles were capable of.

And he didn’t like it.

Not one bit.

So when he opened his eyes and saw his very much muggle parents, he screamed. But as he was a baby at the time, no one was surprised. At all.

It went a bit downhill from there.

But luckily his family only saw what they wanted to see. Only saw a cute toddler copying his prim and proper elder brothers and not a solemn child with the eyes of an adult. Only saw happiness instead of fake smiles of steely politeness. Only saw an adorable kid with a love and belief in bedtime stories instead of one searching for magic. Only saw a clumsy little thing instead of an individual frustrated by their apparent _lack_ of magical outbursts frustrated at their toys for refusing to levitate.

So when his letter didn’t come at age eleven, the Shen family, in the face of their youngest son’s devastation and distress sat him down and explained that ‘Hogwarts _isn’t_ _real_ ’. And it was hearing the name of the magical school the existence of which should not have, _could not have_ been revealed to muggles because of the Statute that got him looking.

He didn’t like what he had found.

_Sort of._

Because reading about ‘Harry Potter’ left a foul taste in his mouth. Because _no one_ wants to wake up one day to find out that _apparently,_ they _aren’t real_. They are part of a story. Not even history. They were made-up. Imagined.

Because _magic doesn’t exist_.

And neither do _they_.

But to give him credit, he didn’t mope around for long. He just wasn’t that kind of person. _Obviously_ , the writer of the entire thing is a squib! But not a single entrance to the magical world he knew worked. Not Beijing. Not Paris. And most definitely not London. And he checked. Those were just some of the benefits of having rich parents that didn’t want to shove their sickly youngest into boarding school and dragged him around to all the business trips.

It wasn’t hard to come to the right conclusion. Eventually. He wasn’t even reborn into his own world. And the author? Of the ‘novel’ with so many plot-holes and inconsistencies written from the perspective of a child that had absolutely no idea about what was going on around him and allowed himself to be dragged around towards his ‘destiny’? She was no _author_. She was just a _seer_. And not a very good one either. Although she did present _some_ operational spells and even one _very much illegal_ necromantic ritual.

And that was his chance.

Because she _couldn’t_ be the only one.

 _Surely_ there are others. Others who could see more than they ought to. In their dreams or in their waking moments. Passing everything off as ‘inspiration’. And _yes_ , he does understand that most of what was written nowadays was either some form of either childish or romantic fantasy or something filled with so much sex and gore that the truly useful content was sparsely evident.

But just because he doesn’t have an active magical core in this life doesn’t mean that he is hopeless. Even if he is unsuccessful in this life, there is always the next one. He ensured of it. Now he just needs to gather as much knowledge that may be restricted or forbidden in his other reincarnations.

And he found some.

But he made a slight error of judgment. He began with the European-focused popular culture completely ignoring the Asian when it was now his heritage in this life. But even then, his endeavor wasn’t without its use.

 _Yes_ , most of the things he read and watched were useless time-wasters or something like Star Wars the world of which _definitely_ existed but the only useful instruction of the entire series was ‘ _Use the Force, Luke’_. Dead useful. _Totally_.

Where were the rituals? Or the instructions to Sith Alchemy?! Or even some ‘useless’ plant acceleration technique for Jedi? It was as if the greatest skill-set of a Sith was some telekinesis and a well-timed lightning strike. And the Jedi just pretended their powers didn’t exist and used swords.

_Idiots._

Then there was Lord of the Rings. Where any active magic use other than some seer abilities innate to the Elves was demonstrated by like _three people_. At least the Black Speech could be used instead of runes so the series wasn’t an entire waste of his time…

Then there was Supernatural…

He can’t even comment. Honestly. Although the things he _did_ learn proved invaluable while seeming like an absolute waste of time. And he had such high hopes considering the angel blood in his veins. He never really found anything about his innate abilities in that previous life. Other that an overwhelming feeling of righteousness in his own actions, the intolerance he had of conflicting opinions, and his ability to seem an innocent angel and make people around him kiss the ground he walked on and even die for him. Although surprisingly, any dark magical creatures actually awoke the strange urge to set them on the right path of redemption. Not demons though. Never demons. He couldn’t even tolerate the presence of Dementors. The result was always some Fiendfire. He couldn’t help it. It was instinct. _Really_.

The Song of Ice and Fire? Well… Among the endless porn there were _some_ descriptions of _abilities_ and mildly accurate accounts of dragons. Although he had never thought that they were actually intersex. But that may have just been due to that world’s specifics.

Then there were the things he was embarrassed to admit he had read or watched. But it was unfortunately compulsory. Considering his angelic heritage. But even if the Mortal Instruments books were _tolerable_ , the Shadowhunter TV series was a new all-time low. But he _did_ get functional angelic runes and some actual properties of angelic blood from it so it counts as a fair trade.

And then came the anime…

Lots of anime…

Naruto was _interesting_. Behind the indecent attire of the female characters and the colorful cheer which covered up horrific crimes which made blood, loss and death of indoctrinated children meaningless but successfully hid an intricate society with priceless skills.

The Seals were especially useful in his situation because it wasn’t like he had the priceless bloodlines that enabled the ‘heroes’ to perform their impossible feats of idiocy. But one thing ruined his impressions of the Saga. Because unlike the fanatical following, he didn’t like most of the ‘good’ characters. Naruto brought about the feeling of something unworthy of being stuck to the bottom of his shoe with his lack of brain cells. Because who sacrifices everything for a people that despise you? That would love nothing more than to see you fall? That would love to laugh at your funeral? Only an idiot.

The last Uchihas? Sasuke was a classic emo boy and Itachi a disgusting blood-traitor. Because no Greater Good of strangers is worth the blood of family. None. A creature that dares to think otherwise should be smothered in the cradle.

Sakura? Too suspicious in her idiocy and incompetence.

So no. His favorite wasn’t a hero. Not even _close_. Because no one in their right mind would call Orochimaru _that_. The Snake Sanin was truly a being after his own heart. Just knowing that the ‘Naruto’ world is real somewhere is enough to cheer on the only creature of cunning, intelligence and reasonable goals.

Nevertheless, after the Saga he saw just what kinds of worlds he should focus on to obtain the knowledge most suitable for his mixed bloodline. Because he had never got his hands on anything substantial from the Asian side of the world. And now he sees his actions as those of a self-righteous and overconfident fool. _Yes_ , the secrets and techniques of the ninjas were held closely to the chests of the few clans that had survived the changes brought to the world over the ages. And there were never many to start with. But still, he overlooked the arts and teachings of personal development and growth for knowledge and power. And yes, his approach was somewhat justified at the time. Especially considering the fact that many great secrets such as that of Immortal Cultivation had been lost many a time ago and dispersed through the ages. Other than some legends and questionable rumors, there was nothing left to learn. But still, the outcome was a disappointment.

So when he discovered the world of web novels and Proud Immortal Demon Way in particular, he was beyond ecstatic. Because not only did he get his hands on priceless secrets of Cultivation, he now had the means to transcend his mortal body and finally regain access to the full extent of his magic because while a golden core may not be a magical core, surely it could be of similar use? So he didn’t care much for the plot of the stupid thing.

At the start.

Until the honestly horrific death of the _so-called_ ‘villain’ of the story. Because after _that_? The _thing_ had little content to offer except for endless papapa with another brainless beauty that couldn’t overcome the influence of a high-level demonic presence and literally got addicted.

So when he obtained D-grade porn instead of the expected Cultivation secrets, he anger was justified. He had every right to be upset. And so he made it known. Under the pseudonym of Peerless Cucumber. A truly tasteless username, but it wasn’t like the author or fans of such a sub-level ‘masterpiece’ could understand something sophisticated.

But the choice of such a degrading account name was wholly justified. After all, an author who based their own ‘name’ on the basis of the same joke would surely notice the comments made from an account with a similar theme. But he was wrong. Because no matter how many scathing reviews or demands for valuable content he made, the _thing_ remained its worthless harem-growing self until the very end. Because the seer that the author was didn’t deign to write the useful juicy details (well, not the ones that mattered). Only worthless sex scenes which were rarely intermingled with a semi-useful fact.

Shen Yuan didn’t think he was ever capable of that kind of hate in either of his lives. Oftentimes, he sincerely wanted to find the ‘author’ and wring his neck!


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The matter of Proud Immortal Demon Way may have then been abandoned but not forgotten. It couldn’t be. Especially with the ‘ _hero_ ’ being a demon. Honestly, Shen Yuan would have had a bone to pick with the thing even if he wasn’t a half-angel at all. But he was. And _that_ mattered.

In his previous life he came from a ‘pure’ family. But no one outside the Lords and the immediate heirs knew just how misleading their reputation actually was. Because ‘pure’ they certainly were _not_.

Oh, no so-called ‘pure’blood family actually _was_. But the crossbreeding with magical creatures and races was a fact most preferred to bury under the endless flow of time.

Until the depletion of ‘family magic’ made the recollection a necessity.

And it just so happened that the ‘pure’ family he had come from experienced an all-time low just a generation before he was born. And they _were not_ okay with it. They were certainly not about to impersonate a so-called ‘Light’ family that would be all for the discarding of family magics and traditions.

 _Yes_ , his family may have had nothing against most muggleborns as long as they kept their muggle relatives out of the magical world, but they were certainly not about to forfeit their advantage like so many foolish compatriots that chose to fall in line with popular opinion.

And so his ‘father’ found the ancient texts. Found the notes of his ancestors. Found the instructions. But failed to realize that just because he followed them to a T, didn’t mean that nothing would go wrong. But he didn’t think about that at the time.

After all, the inbred fool was nowhere near a genius. Regardless of what he actually chose to think.

He married his own cousin to simultaneously make the new heir family by blood and to be able to control her and force her to keep her silence on the matter. After all, a wife from any prominent ‘pure’ family came with relatives. Relatives that would most certainly not be ok with having no contact with one of their own and the subsequent death on the birthing bed of their woman.

So everything went well.

Until it _didn’t_.

Because one thing his father certainly _wasn’t_ , was a Ritualist. So a mistake in the sigils or chanting was expected considering that he couldn’t consult a qualified professional on the very much secret and illegal summoning of what was meant to be a very low-level angel. But _wasn’t_.

And so the ‘miracle’ that was now Shen Yuan was born. At the expense of his mother’s life. But he was. And for some time his ‘father’ was happy. After all, more power means more influence and more familial power. He was _so proud_ of himself.

But that didn’t make him any less of an idiot.

Because a weak angel? A weak angel is _weak_. A former _human_. An _ascended_. With barely any differences other than some extra power. But a powerful angel? Shen Yuan’s father chose to, or perhaps truly forgot that powerful angels high up in the divine ranks were never human in the first place.

And while they could possess a human body, could successfully _pretend_ to be human, that wouldn’t make any difference.

And the half-breed offspring of powerful angels?

Well…

Neither their psyche nor their body would ever be human. Especially their psyche. There was a reason why the conception of Nephilim was a taboo. And Shen Yuan, for all his very misleading human looks, was just as monstrous as his biblical brethren.

But that didn’t become obvious until later on in life. And when it did? Well… few would sincerely call him ‘angelic’ in any way, sense or form.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Shen Yuan as he was now called, knew that he didn’t have much time left. It wasn’t because he was terminally ill as the doctors had said, either. And maybe, had he not tried to do magic in his very much muggle body everything would have turned out okay. But he wasn’t meant to be an average nobody! So when he got the opportunity to develop new skills and abilities, he couldn’t help himself. And if anybody told him the cost of such experiments would be his life, he would chose no different the second time over. After all, it was better to have tried and died than to have never tried at all. And even with his upcoming end in this life, he is certain that it’s not the end of it. He had made sure of it.

And he was _right_.

Although his new body had much to be desired. Because the moment he came to, the only feeling he could comprehend was pain. And not the ‘baby coming into the world’ kind either, which, after having an unforgettable experience in, he would never mistake for anything else. It was more like the ‘tortured to insanity’ kind. And yes, he _did_ have a first-hand experience in _that_ as well.

So when he failed to move his limbs and found that his mouth could only pronounce rasps of pure agony, it was no wonder that he chose to immediately retreat to his inner self using Occlumency. Only to find, that he was not alone.

And his ‘neighbor’ was anything _but_ okay with his presence. Although from looking at the beautiful visage before him, most people would forgo noticing the cold, sharp glare of his emerald eyes with an obvious loathing for all things living in place of admiring their luminosity and drooling like fools. Would notice the lovely curl of those cherry-red lips instead of seeing their thin line of permanent annoyance. Would see the delicate, pearl-white wrists showing from beneath the long silk sleeves of his white robes lined with green instead of noting the undeniable strength of a body lined in lean muscle of what a modern person would liken to the build of a professional gymnast. Would let the being before them mesmerize them for long enough to get closer. To go for the exposed throat… and kill.

All in all, it was very easy to confuse the figure before him for a member of the female sex. Especially considering the waist-long hair, that for some bizarre reason was falling loose about the man’s shoulders which was considered improper even in the progressive 21st century. But before him was no woman. After all, just as any experienced woman could tell with that mysterious sixth or seventh sense all women have if their object of interest is interested, married or indifferent altogether and that the man that was Shen Yuan in another life was almost completely playing for the other team, he could tell that his competitor for his current physical vessel was very much male. If it was otherwise, he would have surely committed ritualistic suicide if only to avoid the ‘wonderful’ experience of being a woman.

Although he had never expected the previous ‘owner’ of his ‘meat-suit’ to still be ‘home’. And considering the ‘ _wonderful_ ’ feelings he experienced in reality, he was surprised that he _was_. Because for someone to survive what from his experienced eye _(considering his new vessel had only one functional sensory organ, such a statement was ironic as…)_ looked like professional and methodical torture, in a sane state of mind, was a miracle. However, considering their meeting in this body’s minds-cape, the original ‘landlord’ had likely retreated into the depths of his mind just like he had with his Occlumency. Although the fact that whoever had taken their endless frustrations out on his vessel failed to notice their victim retreating from all things sensory and leaving a senseless husk, spoke of the actions of an amateur. Enthusiastic but still an amateur.

And he honestly wondered what unforgivable sins he had committed in his previous life to not only be reincarnated not as a babe as meant to be but as a mutilated sex-god in a torture dungeon. And not in the good way either. He _does_ admit to his crimes. Unforgivable ones too. But that was the life _before_ last! Surely two decades without magic were enough of a punishment! Why does he get such shit circumstances _now_?!

And a roommate, too!!!

Since when was his life a ‘buy one, get one free’ sale? And not in a good way, ether?!


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Shen Qingqiu could admit that he seemed to have the worst luck in all the realms. He could admit to it. But that hardly means that he would ever say such a thing out loud. After all, he does not need nor want pity. And considering his reputation, he was hardly eligible to be given a cup of water before a pond. Even if he were dying of thirst. People that claimed to care for him, called themselves his ‘ _brothers_ ’ had made sure of it.

How could he even be so blind?!

How?!

And more so, _why_?!

Why, when looking back into the past, does he find his own actions _lacking_?! As if done by someone else? Where was his cunning? Where was his sharp tongue? Where was the brilliant if dangerous youth that rose up to the title of Peak Lord from the lowest dirt with his head held high when given the smallest chance?! Where did he go???

Why did he take on that girl Ning Yingying that didn’t just lack all the qualities valued at the Peak of Scholars but then set her above everyone else?! Gave her power over her fellow disciples. Power she hardly deserved! When the girl was hardly the most attentive or hardworking of his students and was honestly lacking in her cultivation?! Why did he allow her to get away with things for which other disciples would have surely been whipped and even thrown out of the sect?! Namely the disrespectful familiarity and spreading rumors? She wasn’t his mother, sister or wife! How dare she?! How could he have let her off with nought a warning when he very well saw that her ‘innocent and sweet’ persona was just a mask?! And most importantly, why at his farce of a ‘trial’ did he stay silent? Why did he allow all those ‘victims’ to walk all over him without saying a word in his own defense?! What right did Qui Haitang even have to show her face and crawl out of whatever hole she had been hiding in for all those years?! Did she have no shame?! How dare she utter the word ‘honorable’ and the name of her disgusting family of slavers in the same sentence?! He could have made her laughingstock with a single word! Did he suddenly loose his tongue?! And with Liu Mingyan? While he _did_ kill her brother for no one to believe in his very much truthful statement of it being self-defense, the stupid girl then had the indecency and lack of propriety to betray the entire human race and most importantly, their Sect by willingly spreading her legs for a half-demon for something as petty as revenge! And whatever grievances he might have had with the War God, one thing is certain. Liu Qingge would have never stood for such an act. Had he been alive, he would have slit his beloved sister’s throat himself. As was his duty as a Righteous Cultivator.

And finally, _why_ for all things that were sacred, did he keep silent of the _Beast’s_ demonic heritage??? When it could have saved so many lives even at the expense of their Sect’s reputation… And what reputation even was there?! When all his martial bothers didn’t utter a word in his defense! Allowed a rival Sect to put a member of their own on ‘trial’! What kind of sect and ‘brotherhood’ even were they?! If that was what their Sect was truly like, if the head of the fish was truly _that_ rotten, maybe it didn’t deserve to exist.

But even if it didn’t, he could hardly believe that such events could be a terrible coincidence. There had to be a culprit. He didn’t know who. But he wished he could find out. And absolutely _slaughter_ the one responsible.

But now it was too late. Even with his newfound realizations that he was probably only capable of making because there was no more use in active mind control. After all, what kind of damage could someone limbless, tongueless and pretty much eyeless bring, to the plans of such a master manipulator whose plans likely spanned through decades, mayhap even centuries? But if there was one thing he was certain of, it was that the culprit was definitely not the Old Palace Master. Although he did reap many of the benefits. But it would only take one instant for the Beast to take interest at what truly happened to its birth parents for the Old Palace Master’s position to come crashing down. And who even knows, maybe, once this one is dust and bones, this very cell would be the home of someone truly deserving of it. He truly wishes it were so. If only for some form of poetic justice.

But it’s too late.

For everything.

The only thing this one is truly capable of, is thinking. In the dark place that was his mind. Although the divine ones did grant him one small mercy. The true lack of intelligence in the Beast’s mind. Because how it could have still not noticed that his victim has been a comatose vegetable and not keeping silent out of spite, he couldn’t know. Was the Beast truly such a fool that didn’t understand just how easy it was for this one to escape the physical? And while he couldn’t abandon his physical vessel altogether or use the pain as a trigger to obtain higher cultivation and ascend because of the Immortal Binding Cables, no one and nothing could stop him from finding solace in his mind. Even if there was nothing truly beautiful about it. Not after his life.

Because he didn’t suffer continuous qi deviations just to seek attention or because of his low moral qualities or for seeking excessive physical pleasures. None of those things were _ever_ true. No matter what _some_ would say.

Truly, there was only one person in his life that had mattered. His last and only reason for holding on. And while the Sect Leader may have long ago preferred to forget and leave behind the memories of his true origins as a street urchin, the one once called Shen Jiu couldn’t do so as easily. And while judging from his averted eyes and lack of meaningful action, the one he thought he had once rightfully called gege had long ago come to regret ever picking up the lump of squeaking newborn from the ditch this one was born in. It was probably easier for Yue Qingyuan to avoid telling him the truth. That Shen Jiu, for all his resentment, for all his hate, wasn’t important enough to matter. Not important enough to come back to. Not important enough for anything but false promises and then empty platitudes. But even then, Shen Jiu would be forever grateful. Grateful for life. Even one as meaningless as his. But maybe, the fate of that nameless newborn was to freeze to death or suffocate in the mud without having lived a day right from the very start. Maybe, just maybe, the world was correcting its mistake. Maybe, all he needs to do now is for once in his life to stop fighting.

And let go…


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

When he saw an imperfect mirror image of himself in his very own mindscape, he did a double take. Because the figure before him could only be a hallucination. After all, why would anyone, even that whelp with his very own Dream Demon have any use in infiltrating his mind in such an attire?

After all, torturing him while holding up an illusion of himself to present everything as self-mutilation, was hardly worse than anything he had experienced so far. But for the fact that such an act would be original, he would never try to pin it onto the half-breed. For the _Beast_ had no such thing as patience, originality or appreciation of beauty beyond taking, taking and _taking_. To then use and use until any semblance of it withers away.

For if anyone were to say that the whelp had created something, something without the intention of wooing another brain-dead damsel in distress into his ever-growing harem, Shen Jiu would have had a very good laugh had he still had his tongue. Because while the creature was truly talented at destruction, at tearing down the things created and built by others, he was a waste of life and space with his failure to create anything beyond his empire of death, blood and sex. So nothing different beyond the capabilities of the next demon.

But the figure before him, whatever it hid, had taste.

Of course, the reason why he would prefer to label it a hallucination was its strange attire. Because after being a street rat for so long, he would now only ever wear white. Perhaps he had buried himself back even then? Maybe he subconsciously knew that the title of Peak Lord would be his very last achievement? Who knows…

Because for all that all his robes had some green outlines, some color and sometimes embroidery of bamboo, for all that people did a double take and even turned around when they saw him, he didn’t look alive. Alike a jade statue. Cold. Indifferent. Unmoving and unmoved. A jade statue was likely where he got his inspiration of is infamous Peak Lord composure from. But the less he had to interact with the entitled idiots that most cultivators were, the better.

But the one before him didn’t wear white. But then again, he didn’t need to change anything about himself to look anymore _dead_. Mayhap once his hair was the same dark onyx of Shen Jiu’s. But no more. It was a pure white. Unnatural even. And in its unnaturalness, it was truly impossible to tell if it was so from birth or from age. But he would bet on the former. And their skin was an unhealthy pastel white. He had honestly never seen such a shade in his life. Not even on the undead with their pale sheen tinged with green. Had he seen any foreigners, he could have likened the hallucination to them. But in their world, the only foreigners one could expect to meet where demons. Plain and simple.

Maybe, had Shen Jiu actually cared about anything at all at this point, he would have had a reaction similar to when someone was trying to invade his personal space with their unwanted and tactless attention. However, his preferences hardly mattered anymore. He wasn’t safe. Not even in his own mind. It was just the simple truth of the matter. Nothing else.

And it wasn’t like he had any of his fans on hand. Preferably, those intended for battle with their sharp metallic spines. Spines he had used to tear apart jugulars of those who bought his helpless-pretty-doll act and came in too close more than once. Close enough to strike. Unfortunately, the longer he remained Peak Lord, the more sinister his reputation. Sadly, it eventually got to the point of his reputation preceding him and such tactics had to be regretfully discarded. No thanks to certain ‘War Gods’.

Honestly, his relationship with his ‘shidi’ left much to be desired. But if he could go back in time, he would act no different. Even if he was to earn his reputation of a dishonorable cheat. Because in the end of the day, who was the one who got up again to see the light of dawn was what really mattered. Not who held their sword the prettiest or followed some ridiculous rules of ‘fair’ warfare. Because war isn’t fair. And neither is life.

So when a starved ex-slave and street rat that was miraculously accepted into a prestigious Sect of righteous cultivators had the choice of fighting fair and becoming laughingstock among his fellow disciples and fighting dirty to win, he definitely didn’t chose the former. He had enough ridicule and disgust to last a lifetime. Better a reputation of one without honor than that of a victim.

So when Liu at the time not yet Qingge made his pretty but useless moves, while subtly looking around for onlooking shimei he could impress, Shen at the time Jiu made his decision. He wasn’t just another stepping stone for a spoiled fool that wants to stroke his own ego. He was better than that.

To say that the outcome of the spar was unexpected, was putting it lightly. After all, no none, not even their Shizuns, who had secretly placed some coins onto the most probable outcome, could have foreseen that their all-time favorite that had previously won them significant earnings, would slip up against a malnourished street-rat and end up with a broken arm, nose and ribs, remaining bed-ridden for weeks.

Of course the spoiled brat then had the lack of dignity to complain. To nag and nag about how the fight ‘wasn’t fair’ completely forgetting the truth of the saying that ‘all is fair in love and war’. In Shen Jiu’s honest opinion, someone who can only win a ‘fair fight’ where their opponent is left handicapped and confined by a set of stupid rules, doesn’t deserve the title of ‘War God’. Unfortunately, that was only his opinion.

Because being eventually confined by those very stupid rules due to the brat’s (and the brat’s family’s) whining by his own Shizun lest he was thrown out back onto the streets, didn’t make his mood or attitude any better. Sadly, life wasn’t fair. That was the truth of the matter. The fact that the Sect the members of which positioned themselves as ‘fair’ and ‘righteous’ preferred to get rid of a penniless orphan with crippled cultivation over the son of an influential family showed it once again. 

But in this life there were fights one couldn’t win. Or couldn’t win head on. Sometimes, the most important and correct decision one could make was the right time to lay down arms and capitulate (or seemingly do so, while holding a sharp dagger up one’s sleeve). In the case of Liu Qingge, the complacency Shen Jiu displayed was only temporary one. But in the face of the mysterious stranger in his own mind, Shen Jiu chose to walk away. Because some battles just weren’t worth fighting for.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Perhaps not being completely alone in his own mind should have stopped his desire to self-reflect, but Shen Jiu hardly cared anymore. Because some memories where unforgettable and were capable of bringing the warm feeling of satisfaction to his poor stomach that hasn’t seen food for years. Literally.

But if there was one memory he would like to hold on to, it was the expression of a beached Koi on the face of his _shidi_ after getting a well-placed kick to a man’s most prized body parts and a handful of sand in the eyes. Even if it came at the expense of the reputation of a leech. Ew. Some things he could have _definitely_ gone without.

Although how it was that no one had asked what their ‘ _respectable’_ martial brother was doing in the Red District, while ‘miraculously’ bumping into him, Shen Jiu would never know. And why he was labelled the leech and not the other. And why that ungrateful spoiled brat Ning Yingying spread around and supported those lies. Although he probably knows _why_. After all, it’s so much easier to gain the attention and ‘love’ of a fellow disciple when there is a lecherous villain in the story. Especially one that seeks to break the ‘loved ones’ apart. But funnily enough, although her tactics _did_ work in the short term, they were definitely not enough to make her ‘husband’ stay by her side. Really, he couldn’t think of a better punishment for one’s stupidity than one Ning Yingying brought upon herself. Because dealing with and sharing her ‘husband’ with hundreds of other women as well as surviving harem politics would have surely curbed her ego. And if not? That is no longer his problem.

‘Yue Qi’ was another matter entirely. Shen Jiu may be forever grateful to the man. He really was. But that didn’t mean he was blind to his faults. Because what really hurt him were the lies, distrust and secrecy. The fact that his ‘shidi’ always believed everyone and anyone else before him was what really cut deep. And it was as if ‘Yue Qi’ momentarily forgot what position Shen Jiu held within the Sect. That labeling their Peak as the Peak of Scholars and unofficial bookworms, as the Peak of meatheads liked to call them, not paying any mind that those same meatheads that were said to be the greatest warriors of the Realm lost to the ‘bookworms’ more often than not when sneaking onto their Peak. Because the unofficial spymasters disguised as simple scholars could not be weak.

It was funny how ‘Yue Qi’ thought him ignorant to his issues with his Sword and qi deviations. When Shen Jiu learned of everything concerning the person he naively thought was ‘his’ gege in the very first week of being a disciple. It wasn’t the reason he saw red the moment the Sect Leader was in his vicinity. No, that wasn’t it. It was the lies and deceit. The fact that the person he thought would never betray him, not only did just that, but didn’t even consider him worthy enough of the truth. And that _hurt_.

Badly.

So when he was brought the remains of Yue Qingyuan’s sword in-hand with the beast's gloating, his very first thought was suicide. Because there was nothing else to live for. No hope of escape. Certainly not in his condition. And no one would come to break him out either. He even succeeded in escaping the worst of his bindings and crawling to the shards. But when it came to actually swallowing the leftover pieces, he unfortunately failed. Because they were simply too big to swallow. Had he still had his hands, he would have slit his useless wrists. Had he still had an intact tongue, he would have bitten it off to choke on his own blood. Had he still had his beautiful length of hair, he would have strangled himself with it. Unfortunately he didn’t have any of those things. But obstacles never stopped him from trying.

Not that the beast or his accursed blood parasites let him. The filthy animal may have laughed at his despair and even left him free of the shackles, to lie on the floor next to his shidi’s sword. But it was not a favor done out of kindness. More like for entertainment. The beast’s own foul amusement. For how that animal had wanted to see this Master crawl. Especially as a lowly disciple.

The half-breed may have put on a good front. May have been a favored ‘white lotus’ among his shimei back in the day. But that was only a front. A mask used to conceal the ugly truth. A truth this master somehow sensed. In the actions. In the words. In the expressions that didn’t match. The only thing that would have brought the truth to the surface for all to see would have been if the beast's inner self rose to the surface. But the animal always had good self-control. For keeping up a happy smile on one's face while getting a face-full of tea is just not possible. No one is that 'forgiving'. And the animal certainly wasn't. The filthy beast also proved himself to be nothing more than a filthy beast in the end. An ungrateful one with a good memory for slights. But being right all along brings little comfort to this master. 

And it’s not the so-called jealousy speaking. How that rumor even got started, he would never know. For why would this master feel anything other than contempt and pity at the lowly beast’s own limitation when the animal abandoned his own cultivation and development the moment he achieved a golden core in favor of ‘practicing’ dual cultivation. Why would this master feel jealousy towards a fool who is governed by the urges of the flesh, by his own _Sword (both of them, really)_ and the ‘esteemed’ elder demons and cultivators that plotted to imprison his very own father? Because believing that cultivators, even those of the Great Sects were capable of sealing away a Heavenly Demon, more so, the Emperor of Demon-kind that had been in power for millennia, without the help of powerful demons turned traitors was just _foolish_.

Oh, how he does understand the imprisoned Demon Emperor right now. Because that very same council of ‘wise and esteemed’ demons and cultivators plotted his own downfall at the hands of a despicable half-breed. More so, because he failed to _see_. To open his eyes to the disgusting and painful truth. Until it was simply too late. And now there is nothing he could do. He can’t even die in peace. For peace is now his only desire. Because for a failure like him, it is too selfish to wish to not have to die alone.

Although his wish may have been answered in the most peculiar fashion. For hearing voices in his own head was definitely _not_ what he meant. His relative remaining sanity is the one somewhat undamaged thing of any sentimental value he has left. So he would like to keep it that way. Thank you very much…


End file.
